The Outsiders' Halloween
by voulez-vous101
Summary: Ponyboy has lived the past year in turmoil trying to get out of it, but he tries to move on. He knows that his parents kept a lot of secrets, but when he goes trick r' treatin' with his "friend" that is a girl all of them come out on that dreadful day. Soon, he knows that his family and friends are being hunted by Russell M., one by one until Ponyboy is dead on the floor!
1. Title & Prologue

The Outsiders' Halloween

Starring characters from S.E. Hinton's _The Outsiders_

Fanfiction is written by Isaac Molina

**3/8/2019**

_The story you're about to read is a fanfiction and not a source of work by the original author of _The Outsiders_. Enjoy the story!_

To all the people who want to see Ponyboy and the gang be hunted down in this slasher work of fiction and want to see what happens when all you got to do is hold down the fort with your only remaining friends and family.

Prologue

The clouds in the night sky swirled in mutiny against the starry night and swallowed them and the moon whole. A vehicle was climbing up a hill with its headlights turned on and the only light in miles within the dense forests of Kansas. The two people in the blue Corvair talked away about their personal secrets whom they've never told anyone else, including their parents. It was awfully quiet in the woods. The trees swayed as the car passed them like if the trees were in desperate need of visitors.

It was about midnight-a quarter before twelve-and the dense clouds ached to cry like a child holding back tears. Gerald Curtis, a stocky man in his early twenties, drove the Corvair up the black concrete road looking out the front window. "Just rain already!" He announced. It was as if Zeus heard his prayer. A strike of lightning illuminated the whole path and revealed the silhouettes of the tall pine-trees lurking in the dark towards them.

"My gosh, it was like it heard you!" Carolynn, Gerald's spouse for two years, had said. The rain began to come down on the sleek Corvair and the windshield wipers were activated by Gerald. The rain always calls to Carol (who Gerald called her) and she looked out the windows. She loved the stormy weather and was always fascinated with it. It always gave her a mood, a romantic mood that is. The sounds of rain pattering the car harmony with the water falling like a waterfall around the car.

Carol snuggles against Gerald's broad arm-in which his rough, hairy hand held the throttle strictly. Gerald quickly leaned in for a kiss and took his blue eyes off the road for once. Carolynn Curtis was worth it for him. It was like that for a few minutes.

That is until a large bolt of lightning-its shape sort of represented the figure of a broken skeleton model-shone up the street that led up the rocky hill.

A scream vibrated from inside the car screeching: "Stop the car!" Carol snatched the wheel and immediately swiveled it towards the opposite lane. "What the-!" Gerald forced his foot on to the brakes and the wheels immediately battled with friction leading to the car being tipped on its side for a while. The wheel's rubber skid across the cracked pavement like a girl in petrified fear which was both Gerland and Carolynn's emotion at the time.

Lightning struck into the forestry and the car screeched to a halt on the opposite lane, nearly falling into the pit beside it which was filled with boulders and pointy bark of dead trees. "Carol! What was it!" Gerald took a minute to regain what had happened, "You could've killed us!" He yelled and his pulse rapidly vibrated along the veins of his neck. Carol by then got out of the vehicle with her cotton head over her head, snatched a flashlight in the safe, and ran into the darkness of the road. He got out too to in the search for her.

"Carol!" He screamed in a deep tone. He gave up right after that, but a minute later and a lightning strike revealed Carol on her knees and a tiny figure next to her.

"I can't see! Carol? You okay, baby!" The car's headlights faced into the dense forest and shone onto the pine trees that were larger than a two-story house. Carol finally brought the figure over to him in front of the car's headlights. The light revealed a tiny, fragile boy. His socks, shirt, and underwear all soaked with water and mud. Gerald didn't know if he was crying or shivering due to the water splashing on him. Maybe it was both! Gerald stood there staring at Carolynn dumbfoundedly odd.

"His name is Russell." Carolynn put her cotton sweater over Russell's small head and the sweater drooped all over his slim shoulders. Carol asked if he had any parents.

Gerald gave the boy a long, sincere disliking look. The boy with matted red hair looked away and towards the car. The boy didn't speak as the only sounds he made was his teeth clattering in his mouth while he shivered.

Carol snatched Gerald's tensed arm. The rain falling hard on both of them and soaking their clothes. "We can't let him stay outside with nobody!" Carol whispered hardly on Gerald. Gerald crooked an eyebrow and finally shook his head. "I agree. We can drop him off at the nearest adoption agency we find!"

Carol shook Gerald forcibly. "What! Are you crazy! Do you know what they do to those poor children?"

"Crazy? What're you gettin' at here, love?"

"We need to protect him now. I'm saying we should protect him!" Carol shook Gerald again and again until Gerald forcibly stepped back making sure he doesn't fall over the edge of the road.

"So I'm the crazy one? You're funny, Carol! We haven't even talked about having children yet!" Gerald yelled and the little boy winced as he begun to walk dreadfully around the Corvair.

"Stop it! We are not going to leave him on the side of the road! We are just gonna keep him until someone else comes for him back home! Please, honey!" Carol begged and put her hands on her lap. Gerald thought about having children, annoying, always-asking-questions children. He knew bad things were to come, but if Carol wanted to make a commitment to it, then so did Gerald.

Several quiet and tense minutes out on the rain-their hair now straightened out by the rain-Gerald sighed and shrugged his broad shoulders. He rubbed his eyes, scratched his wet hair, and looked out onto the dense forest of fewer opportunities.

"Fine! Kid, what's your name again?" Gerald said sternly. His young adult life was about to be tossed out into the rain and the dense forests of Kansas. The little kid didn't speak to the six-foot tall man. Carol finally smiled and roughly kissed Gerald on the lips, they both knew that their whole life was going to change. Change. Carol smiled.

A large bolt of lightning smacked the trees behind them which scared everyone as the thunder popped their ears. Carol goes over to the boy and pick him up and shows him off to Gerald. The boy's eyes seemed icy-blue, no life, and imagination in those eyes. Carol said in this ecstatic tone (the last time she used it was when they got married); "He says his name is Russell Myers."


	2. I: Almost a Foster

I: Almost a Foster

It's been almost a year and Ponyboy was now a junior in high school. He was coming back from a sweaty day of track on Friday-a few days before Halloween 1966. The sun was nearing the horizon and a cool breeze swept Tulsa. The trees around the city swayed and the leaves gently danced across the streets of the city. Ponyboy was walking down the sidewalk after getting a cool water bottle at a nearby liquor store. A few children were playing on the street with a ball. The road wasn't busy.

It was a lot safer after the city increased the authority of policemen and patrols to clamp down on the fighting between the city's greasers and the middle-class Socs. Most of these taxes came from the already poor greasers who dominated the east side of the city. Poor side! Ponyboy thought the city's government taxed the poor side even more so that they could give them a talking to as _if _the fight was their fault, and _if_ they were more educated then they wouldn't have been taxed in the first place.

Ponyboy is an example of an educated greaser. It's just that nobody could read him or what he's been through. That's what he hates the most. Which is why he published his story under a pen name. Though it helped him get through, it just seemed to make his feelings get worse. Ponyboy kicked a can over the curb while thinking about last year.

The cool fall wind came over him and his shiny, rusted hair wisped away with it like a curtain. It was nice to feel the coolth after dressing in the warm, humid locker room at the school. All the cologne and hairspray in there infected the hair and choked him like a Soc strangling a greaser.

While he walked, he saw a policeman arresting two boys of greaser kind and shoving them into the police car, and a Soc stood by them staring at Ponyboy with narrow darting eyes. The Soc was also forced to into the car after refusing like a privileged elitist.

There were branches as Ponyboy walked under a small tree. The branches creaked and the leaves made a startling sound which made him jump. Over what happened last year, he was hardly scared of anything-including Socs. It was just that something felt off to him that time.

When Ponyboy turned the corner and traveled down the worn-down neighborhood, he reached the front gates to his crippled house. At the front door, he saw his oldest brother, Darrel Curtis, talking to a black woman in a formal suit like she's from an office building. She walked towards the gate where Ponyboy stood looking at her. The woman stared at him just by the gate and smiled lightly. She walked away down the street to her car in heels.

Ponyboy walked up to Darrel at the front door. He asked: "What was that all about? Who was she anyways, Dar?" Darry gave him a sincere frown and his frosty, blue eyes shot out onto the street.

"A welfare worker came by to warn us again. How much more can I take with these-" Darry stopped hesitantly.

"What?" Pony asked.

"Nevermind. I'm gettin' too old for this," Darrel scratched his head and threw a newspaper out onto the front yard. "I made ya dinner, girl scout." He snickered and smacked Ponyboy behind his head as they entered.

Pony hated being called girl scout. It came from last year's Christmas when Ponyboy woke up in the morning and ate all the cookies on the table which was for the dinner party.

Darrel looked out the last time. Something about the cool wind felt right against his chest. He was wearing a tight tank-top. He loves to show off his muscles, especially to the construction team he works with so that he can have more authority. If you have more authority, no problems.

However, a chilly wind struck Darrel right between his chest like an arrow. He quickly grabbed his left pec and felt something like Pony did. Something was off. He sort of knew! Maybe it was his heart. He was too tired from working a lot from lifting roofing materials up the ladders. He wasn't going to tell the boys of course. The next thing he wants is for his brothers to keep telling him to lay down and get rest. Darry finally closed the screen door.

Sodapop was on the landline with his friend on the phone about the Vietnam draft and the war. Pony spotted his dinner and sat at his table to eat. The plate contained eggs and sausage.

"Y'know, this could've worked better for breakfast, right, Darry?" Pony partitioned the eggs.

"Y'know if you want to buy a costume to make some chick happy. I oughta recycle some of our expired stuff!" Darrel picked up a beer can and punched it through the roof. "Heck, this is probably from last week's!" Darrel drank from it stubbornly.

"How was school, brother?" Sodapop got off the phone for a second as he hung it around his shoulder.

"It was O.K.." He silently laughed to himself. Sodapop was the middle brother and he always cheered up the family with a smile or a positively charged aura around him. How did he do it? Ponyboy wanted to know.

Ponyboy, however, couldn't get his mind off of this one girl at school. She was so beautiful to him. Glasses, freckles, and skin that's a nice tan color. He'd see her at many of his track practices and meets with many of her girlfriends, including Cherry. That red-headed girl. Cherry last spoke to Ponyboy since-since-Pony doesn't even know when! But he's fine with it. She wasn't worth the hassle, but for that girl, that girl who asked him in their class if he wanted to join her group on Halloween; trick or treating around the neighborhood dressed up in costumes.

"Hey, Pony, can you turn on the T.V. for me please?" Sodapop's voice peacefully dissipated Pony's daydream of the girl with a nice tan and blonde hair.

"Pony's eatin', Soda-"

"Hey, I can turn it on, it's cool, Dar." Pony went over to the white and black television and clicked on its buttons. "Which channel, Soda?"

"The news. I think three?"

Pony clicked and _voila _there was an anchorman reporting in front of police lines chattering on about something.

"Since when do you watch the news, fizzy-pop?" Darrel said and went over to the kitchen.

"I dunno. He-Steve-told me to put it on. That a person loco killed his own family and escaped a cop car." Soda held the phone down still. The brothers suddenly were wide-eyed shocked.

"What?" Darrel said with barely any expression in his voice. Sure, American society wasn't exposed to much more stuff and horrors until the seventies, but these Curtis brothers have seen the horrors of what brawling, fighting, and death can do to them. Just read about last year in Pony's book and they'll see. This didn't shock them enough then what happened to Johnny last year. Unfortunately, Johnny is in history now.

The anchorman's voice had a tint of hesitation and bothersome. He was probably just hired. Pony stared at the grey-screen television neutrally and Sodapop went back talking on the phone about what he's seeing.

"Why does these things never stop in this city? For even a minute!" Darry sighed and Ponyboy went back to eat at the small table. "As long as it happened far from this home, ain't nothin' gonna happen to us ever again!" He threw beer cans and dirty foam plates into the kitchen trash bin and wiped the counter of its dirty dishes. Their kitchen was so small that one misguided step can bring down the entire structure of worn-out cupboards and set the old oven on fire!

Pony used to think Darry was an insensitive human being with those icy-blue eyes and his fearful aura of anger, but now he knows that Darry wants what is best for him. Pony is going to go to college for him. Darrel Curtis was going to go to college, but with the absence of their parents in a car accident, someone was bound to inherit the throne of the man of the house. Darrel Curtis.

"Hey, Soda, do you mind if I use the phone after? I need to see if my friend and I are still goin' out?" Pony gave him a grin.

Sodapop hung up the phone and smiled back at him. His bright, clean smile brightened up Pony. "Sure, brother," His nice and friendly voice, "The conversation was being knocked out anyways. Steve was gonna start ramblin' on about some harlots he met and how he knows they were probably knocked up." Soda shrugged and chuckled. He wiped away his blond bangs and went to the bathroom.

"Friend, huh." Darrel crossed his arms and let out a tense smile. He stretched his arms and said; "Well, imma take a nap, girl scout. There's cookies in the fridge if you wanna rummage the hell out of it." He went to his room and shut the door. The house was a deep silence now. The television was playing on.

Ponyboy went over to his backpack and unzipped it. There were notebooks, trashed paper-shredded ones indeed, and with a slight paper cut he found it. The phone number of the pretty blonde girl with big rounded breasts. He looked at the cut he got and it gave him such a hard time. It always does. Why? Was it a disorder or something else? He doesn't know. Just a weird flashback.

He remembers a certain switchblade being opened up and killing a few Socs last year which kickstarted a massive brawl between the two social gangs. But now, things seemed to have cooled off for most of the part. The two gangs are more focused on-Pony guesses-espionage like America and the Soviet Union. However some new movement was destroying the classes, something called the hippies with their wide-flared jeans and long hair.

With all this thinking and worrying, harsh flashbacks, and a mental disorder (he thinks), he might as well been considered homosexual. Heck, there was a time last year in November where he thought he _was _a homosexual. He soon realized that he wasn't aroused by a guy's reproductive organs or by anything in that matter. Or else he wouldn't have been getting his attention by the senior girls who sat next to him in math analysis. He realized how stupid he was now. He has fallen head over pumpkin heels over this yellow-haired girl!

The landline reached and they talked and talked for about an hour. They talked about biology homework and how smart they both were. Ponyboy was said to be smart in literature and art while the girl was said by Pony to be smart in words and compliments. Pony also found out that the girl's name was Linda White. Linda said she has never met a guy like Ponyboy before and is excited to get to know him more on Halloween. This Ponyboy hung up with a blithe smile that curled his cheeks to reveal dimples.

He held the number in his hand, took off his skinny jeans, and looked at the television. He wiped a hand over his fair brown hair. That girl, Linda, was something else. Something, however, was even more of something else.

"**MURDERER ESCAPES POLICE AFTER FAMILICIDE!**" The news heading read. Pony turned off the television. It happened two cities away from Tulsa so it wasn't important to him or everyone close to him.

Ponyboy went to his room in his underwear to do his homework on his desk in front of the open window. The nice, cool wind replaced the warm air that was in the room earlier since it always got the most heat and sunlight in the afternoon. The sky was in a nice orange, and the sun was on the horizon, grasping for the grass so that it could stay out longer. Unfortunately, nothing gold could stay. His rusted-color hair subtly danced in the wind. Everything was peaceful with the pencil scribbling on the paper. Yet, there it was when the wind hit him. A bad feeling.

A scarecrow was placed in the front yard of the house across the street from Pony's, the crows on an electric pole hawked in irregularities, and a sudden rush of an icy-cold wind swallowed the room. Pony shut the window and felt chills sliding down to his feet. His greenish eyes fell onto his papercut. Pony's heart crunched thereafter, similarly to Darrel's when he shut the door. Somehow that phone number on the ripped paper piece reminded him of a switchblade.


End file.
